


The Boathouse

by rusty_armour



Category: Maurice (1987)
Genre: April Showers 2015, Humor, M/M, Parody, boathouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3719815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour/pseuds/rusty_armour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maurice’s relationship with Scudder turns out to be more complicated than he’d imagined. Can they possibly have their happy ending and the boathouse too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Boathouse

**Author's Note:**

> Although I originally blamed this parody on Tylenol Cold Plus, it really came about because I just couldn’t get _Maurice_ out of my head. Of course, if it hadn’t been for the Tylenol Cold Plus, I might not have had such silly thoughts about the film in the first place – or the courage to record them. Of course, [fengirl88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/pseuds/fengirl88) and [second_skin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/second_skin/) should also be scapegoats as they supported and encouraged me throughout the entire endeavour.
> 
> This takes place right after the events of _Maurice_. In terms of Maurice and Alec’s storyline, it’s shortly after they declare their love for each other in the boathouse. You can find the scene [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0p0wzNZTa6g) if you need to refresh your memory or never saw the film in the first place.
> 
> © 2010

 

 

  
  
** In the Boathouse - Several Hours Later **

 

**Maurice** : Well, Alec, now that we've had sexual intercourse in every conceivable position, I think it's time we were on our way.

**Alec** : What do you mean? Is the boathouse not grand enough for you? Are you ashamed to be seen here with the likes of me? Afraid of what your mar might say?

**Maurice** : (Kisses the top of Alec's head) No, no, not at all. I love your little boathouse, even though it technically belongs to Clive. Alec, if I could remain here with you forever, I would, but --

**Alec** : You said we could go anywhere, do anything. Well, I want to stay here, Maurice -- in the boathouse.

**Maurice** : Alec, if we stay here, we'll be arrested.

**Alec** : (Forehead creases in confusion) For trespassing? But Mr. Durham said you're welcome to stay at the boathouse whenever you please.

**Maurice** : No, love. He said I was welcome to stay at the _house_ house, and I don't think this is quite what he had in mind. Besides, it isn't trespassing that concerns me, but the numerous lewd and indecent acts we've just committed. Mr. Lasker-Jones suggested that I move to a country where homosexuality is tolerated, such as France or Italy.

**Alec** : But France or Italy is miles away from the boathouse!

**Maurce** : (Cups Alec's face in his hands) Alec, I realize that this will be exceedingly difficult, but, for both our sakes, you must give up this wild notion of living in a boathouse.

**Alec** : (Pulls away from Maurice, sulking) I already gave up the Argentine for you and now you expect me to give up my boathouse as well?

**Maurice** : It's _Clive's_ boathouse and, yes, Alec, I do. Our love isn't accepted in England and, so, we must go abroad. Remember those wonderful sculptures we saw in the British Museum? Well, you wouldn't believe the kind of art they have in France and Italy.

**Alec** : (Muttering angrily to himself) I don't care about no art what toffs is gawking at.

**Maurice** : Alec, would you go to France or Italy if we had a boathouse?

**Alec** : (Shrugs sulkily) Might.

**Maurice** : Alec, would you go to France or Italy if we had _this_ boathouse?

**Alec** : (Eyes light up momentarily in excitement then narrow) Don't be daft. We couldn't possibly get the boathouse across the English Channel. It's too heavy. It would sink.

**Maurice** : (Smiles indulgently at Scudder) We'd break it down first, Alec. Then, when we reached our destination, we'd rebuild it.

**Alec** : (Looks confused again) But it's not our boathouse. It's Mr. Durham's. You said so yourself. He ain't going to allow us to tear it down.

**Maurice** : He will if we blackmail him. (Rises and starts to get dressed) No, no. You stay here, Alec. I've seen your attempts at blackmail and they aren't very good. No, I shall take care of the blackmail while you decide exactly where we're going to rebuild the boathouse.

**Alec** : (Pulls Maurice down for a quick kiss then smiles as Maurice leaves the boathouse) I wonder if Mr. Durham will allow us to take the ladder too.

 

 

** At the House - Twenty Minutes Later **

_Anne Durham is sitting at her dressing table brushing her hair -- or engaging in some other suitable activity for the wife of a British politician in the early twentieth century. She is startled by a thump outside the window and instantly rises from her chair. Then, she is even more startled when she sees Alec Scudder._

**Anne** : Scudder! I thought I told you that you mustn't visit me unless Clive is out of town! And what are you doing here in the first place? I thought you had sailed off to the Argentine or Canada or some other God-forsaken place.

**Alec** : (Climbs through the window, removing his cap once he's inside the bedroom) I'm rightly sorry, ma'am, but I had to come and see you on account of the heated exchange in the garden between your husband and Maurice.

**Anne** : That's _Mr. Hall_ to you, Scudder! I realize you no longer serve as under-gamekeeper, but surely you still know your place.

**Alec** : That I do, ma'am. It's with _Maurice_ in the boathouse in France...or maybe Italy. I haven't made up my mind yet.

**Anne** : (Sways slightly and is forced to grasp the dressing table for support) Surely you're not suggesting that Maurice is...that Maurice would...Oh, _God_. Are _you_ the little girl Maurice has tucked away in London?

**Alec** : (Scowls) Don't be daft. I'm not little and I don't live in London neither. Considering the number of times I've visited you in the night, I thought you'd _know_ that, ma'am.

**Anne** : (Blushes) Well, that's just it. I never suspected that you were an invert. Now, if it were Clive, I wouldn't be surprised at all, but _you_ , Scudder. (Anne shakes her head forlornly) This will ruin Maurice's career, not to mention his social standing, his position in the community...

**Alec** : Maurice loves me just as I love him. He said he'd give up his career for me. I've already given up mine.

**Anne** : (Stares at Scudder as if seeing him for the first time) Is that really the reason you decided to stay? To be with Maurice?

**Alec** : It is, ma'am -- only we're not staying seeing as we'd be arrested and all. That's why Maurice is trying to blackmail Mr. Durham. We need the boathouse to live in because it's our special place. Maurice wants to dismantle it and rebuild it in France or Italy.

**Anne** : Because homosexuality is tolerated in those countries?

**Alec** : Yes, ma'am.

**Anne** : I see. (Anne walks over to the window and looks out into the garden where Maurice and Clive are, indeed, exchanging heated words) Well, once the situation with the boathouse has been sorted, we'll need labourers to handle the dismantling. Then, of course, we'll need men to rebuild the boathouse once you've reached either France or Italy. Oh, and then there's the passage from England itself. I can book the tickets for the crossing. I suppose you'll require a ship with a rather large hold if you're going to be carrying all that wood.

**Alec** : (Stares at Anne in surprise, but quickly recovers) Why, yes, ma'am. I reckon a ship with a large hold is exactly what we'd require.

**Anne** : Very well. I'll see what I can arrange. (Anne looks serious for an instant, but then she breaks into a dazzling smile and takes Alec's hands in hers) Oh, Alec, it's all so terribly sweet and romantic. I'm so happy that Maurice has found someone, even if that someone is a working class poof who has slept with the entire household.

**Alec** : Not the entire household, ma'am! I ain't never slept with Simcox!

**Anne** : Well, no. I doubt that anyone has. (Anne looks at Alec and they start to giggle. Then they fly apart as Clive bursts through the door)

**Clive** : Darling, I know you're extremely fond of the man, but Maurice is being a complete - (Clive freezes as he spots Alec) What are _you_ doing here? You'd better be fixing a leaky roof or moving a piano, you nasty little oik. My God. Did you climb up here with the ladder? How dare you intrude on my wife in this way? What if I'd been here and we'd been enjoying connubial pleasures?

**Anne** : Not bloody likely.

**Clive** : Well, really, Anne! I...I scarcely know what to say.

**Alec** : That must be a first considering he's a politician.

**Clive** : (Glares at Alec) Anne, please tell me that you didn't invite this lower class tart into our bedroom.

**Anne** : No, dear, I didn't. He arrived unannounced.

**Clive** : Well, I'm heartily glad to hear it, Anne.

**Anne** : No, I've only invited Scudder into the bedroom when you've been away. (Anne smiles sweetly at Alec) Of course, that's all changed now that Scudder and Maurice are going to be living abroad in our boathouse.

**Clive** : (Practically apoplectic) That boathouse has been in my family for generations. If you think I'm going to hand it over to a couple of filthy fornicating whoopsies, I'm afraid you're very much mistaken.

**Anne** : Clive, you're giving them the boathouse and, what's more, you'll be hiring some labourers to dismantle it. If you don't, I shall join the Women's Social and Political Union.

**Clive** : (Gasps in horror) You wouldn't!

**Anne** : Oh, I most certainly _would_.

**Clive** : (Gapes at Anne in disbelief then nods jerkily when he sees that she isn't going to back down) Fine. The boathouse was falling apart, anyway. It's about time we built a new one.

**Anne** : (Beams at Clive and crosses the room to plant a quick kiss on his cheek) That's excellent, darling. I have some simply smashing ideas for the new boathouse. Let's go to your study and I'll draw a couple of quick sketches to show you what I have in mind.

_Anne tugs Clive out of their bedroom, leaving Alec alone. However, he isn't by himself for long as Maurice appears at the window an instant later._

**Maurice** : Alec! What on earth are you doing here? As soon as I saw the ladder, I thought it must be you, but I could barely believe you'd have the nerve to climb up here -- and during the day, no less!

**Alec** : I've been exchanging pleasantries with Mrs. Durham.

**Maurice** : Well, that's an improvement on what I was exchanging with Mr. Durham.

**Alec** : I know. I could hear it.

**Maurice** : Uh, yes. I'm sorry about that. (Maurice looks down, unable to meet Alec's eyes) Alec, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but... (Maurice sighs) We won't be getting the boathouse. Clive is being a complete bastard and refusing to let us have it, despite my skilled attempts at blackmail.

**Alec** : That's all right. Mrs. Durham is letting us have it. I explained the situation to her, so she blackmailed Clive for us. They're drawing up plans for a new boathouse as we speak.

**Maurice** : You...you told Anne about us?

**Alec** : Well, I had to, didn't I? I could see you weren't getting anywhere with the blackmailing and we need that boathouse.

**Maurice** : Alec, I can't decide whether you're brilliant or completely mad.

**Alec** : (Sounding a bit nervous) But you still love me either way, don’t you?

**Maurice** : (Smiles at Scudder) Come here.

_Alec moves closer to the window, and Maurice grabs him by the shirt to pull him in for a kiss._

 

 

** In the Boathouse - In Les Andelys - Five Months Later **

 

_Maurice is sitting with a glass of Chablis in his hand. Alec enters the boathouse carrying a rather large basket covered with a white cloth, which he places upon their only table._

**Maurice** : Ah. Been to the bakery, I see. Or, perhaps, it’s another gift from one of your many female admirers.

**Alec** : (Sits down in the chair across from Maurice, looking sulky) They’re not female admirers: they’re customers.

**Maurice** : (Snorts) Alec, despite your declaration that you intend to learn French, it’s been the other way round. Instead of you learning French, all the women who show up at the butcher shop have been learning English.

**Alec** : (Looking both sheepish and defensive) So they want to learn English. What’s wrong with that? You went to Cambridge, didn’t you? I woulda thought you’d approve of people getting an education.

**Maurice** : My dear boy, I was _tossed_ out of Cambridge. Nevertheless, I think education is a grand thing – when it’s done for the right reasons.

**Alec** : (Rolls his eyes) I got it at the bakery, all right?

**Maurice** : And what, pray tell, is ‘it’? Did you buy us some more of those deliciously crunchy baguettes?

**Alec** : (Shooting a nervous glance at the basket) Not exactly. It’s something different this time. A-a surprise.

**Maurice** : (Smiles) Then I shall look forward to it. (Maurice rises from his chair with a predatory gleam in his eye then freezes when Alec holds up a hand)

**Alec** : No, not now, Maurice. There’s a particular subject I wish to discuss with you that’s most important.

**Maurice** : (Raises an eyebrow) You sound frightfully serious, Alec. I hope nothing’s the matter. (Maurice glances down at Alec, focusing on the area below his waist)

**Alec** : No, I didn’t hack off my winkle with a meat cleaver – not even accidentally. Maurice, I was _born_ in my dad’s butcher shop. I was serving customers back when I was a nipper. I can promise you that I’m _not_ going to lose any body parts while on the job.

**Maurice** : Well, it’s still a jolly dangerous profession. I wish you could go back to being an under-gamekeeper instead.

**Alec** : Oh, because being in the company of a bunch of armed toffs that are too stupid to find their arses is _much_ safer. One of them blokes almost shot me once.

**Maurice** : (Looking amused) Was that before or after you slept with his daughter?

**Alec** : (Stands up abruptly) Right. I’m off. It’s abundantly clear that you are unwilling to partake in a serious discussion, seeing as you’re making jokes at my expense.

**Maurice** : Oh, Alec, don’t be that way. (Maurice rises from his chair and pulls Alec into his arms) I’m sorry, love. You know what Chablis does to me. Stay and we’ll have that serious discussion of yours.

**Alec** : Well, all right, then, but you’d better behave. (Alec returns to his chair. He waits until Maurice is also seated, and lifting his glass to his lips, before he speaks.) I think we should have a baby.

**Maurice** : (Instantly spits out the Chablis and starts coughing violently) Excusez-moi?

**Alec** : You heard me.

**Maurice** : (Still coughing) Alec, I realize that, given his profession, your father might have been too busy to explain the fundamentals to you –

**Alec** : (Glaring at Maurice) He explained them just fine.

**Maurce** : Well, I think he may have left out one or two points on the subject of procreation. (Maurice gazes at Scudder sadly) Alec, two men can’t have a baby.

**Alec** : Well, not without getting married, no. It wouldn’t be right. (Alec smiles) Fortunately, we took care of that.

**Maurice** : Yes, I know. I hadn’t forgotten. It would be impossible for me to forget the wedding considering that gown you wore, _Alexandra_.

**Alec** : Never you mind, Mr. Snooty. The pastor said I was the most beautiful bride he’d ever seen.

**Maurice** : Alec, the pastor was blind.

**Alec** : That doesn’t mean he ain’t entitled to an opinion! Blind men have as much right to an opinion as the rest of us. Just as two married men, such as ourselves, have the right to adopt a baby.

**Maurice** : (Sits up in surprise) Oh! You were referring to adoption!

**Alec** : (Forehead creases) Well, of course I was referring to adoption. How else are we going to have a baby? Maurice, I know your father died when you was a kid, and you had a sheltered upbringing what with the fine table linen and everything, but didn’t you know that men can’t give birth to babies?

**Maurice** : (Clears throat) Well, yes, of course I knew that. I was just surprised by your announcement. I had no idea you were interested in raising a child. You seemed so focused on rebuilding the boathouse, dressing in drag, and becoming a butcher.

**Alec** : Well, now I want a baby. Could we have one please?

**Maurice** : But why _now_ , Alec? There’s plenty of time. And we’re still newlyweds after all. (Maurice hesitates for an instant before speaking again) Have you grown tired of me already? Am I no longer enough for you?

**Alec** : (Quickly reaches out to grasp Maurice’s hand) No, it’s not you, love. It’s the boathouse. It feels empty with just the two of us and no boats.

**Maurice** : (Instantly perks up) We can get boats! We live by a river after all. It shouldn’t prove too difficult a task.

**Alec** : (Shaking head) No, it has to be a baby, Maurice. The boathouse needs new life inside its walls. It needs a little boy running around inside of it.

**Maurice** : Or a little girl. It could be a little girl too, couldn’t it?

**Alec** : (Not quite meeting Maurice’s eyes) No, a little boy would be better. Boys run more and grow bigger than girls. We need a little boy because he’d fill more space.

**Maurice** : (Studying Alec skeptically) All right. Your argument makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but if that’s really what you want –

**Alec** : (Face lights up) Do you really mean it? We can adopt a baby boy?

**Maurice** : If you feel that strongly about it then, yes. And if you can find someone who is willing to hand over their infant to two foreign homosexuals then I’m all for it.

**Alec** : Oh, Maurice, you’ve made me so happy. I haven’t felt this happy since our wedding day. (Alec springs out of his chair and rushes to the table. He pulls back the cloth from the basket and reaches inside, extracting a baby.)

**Maurice** : (Falls out of his chair) What the bloody hell is _that_?

**Alec** : Well, it ain’t a croissant. (Alec looks down at the baby in his arms and his face softens) This is Gaston. Gaston, meet your new daddy, Maurice.

**Maurice** : (It’s a struggle but Maurice manages to stand on two shaky legs and approach the baby) My God, Alec, he looks just like you!

**Alec** : Oh, I reckon that’s just the dark hair and eyes. There’s lots of folks with that.

**Maurice** : (Staring down at the baby fixedly) No, it’s more than that. He’s got your nose and that mischievous little smile of yours, even without the teeth.

**Alec** : (Squirming uncomfortably) You’re imagining things. Any road, all babies look the same. You can barely tell them apart.

**Maurice** : (Crosses his arms) That’s a blatant lie, Alec Scudder. All babies _don’t_ look the same. In fact, this baby looks like only one other person I’ve seen before and that’s you.

**Alec** : Maurice…

**Maurice** : Hush, Alec. I’m trying to think. (Maurice stands deep in thought for a moment then snaps his fingers) The French maid! The first time I visited the house after Clive got married, I asked about Gabrielle and was told that she had disappeared a couple of months previously under rather mysterious circumstances. Naturally, neither Clive nor Anne cared as Gabrielle was lower class and, worse still, a foreigner. However, I always wondered what happened to her. Now I know. She returned to France when she realized she was carrying your child.

**Alec** : (Sounding desperate) Maurice, I swear I didn’t know! I would have done right by her if I had! I only found out about Gaston a few days ago when I paid Gabrielle a visit, to see how she was faring.

**Maurice** : (Smiling gently) I believe you, Alec. What’s more, I commend you for being the type of man who would make an honest woman out of a fallen French maid. However, I hope you won’t think it selfish of me to say that I’m glad you didn’t know. We might never have met, then, and the very thought fills me with more horror and dread than I could possibly express.

**Alec** : You’re-you’re not angry with me, then?

**Maurice** : No, I’m not angry. (Walks over to Scudder and kisses him on the lips) Let me hold your son. I’d like to see him better.

**Alec** : It’s _our_ son and you can hold him whenever you like.

**Maurice** : (Takes the baby from Alec and cradles him in his arms) What’s Gabrielle’s surname? Given his strong resemblance to you, I think it would be wise if we told people he was a French relative of yours that was recently orphaned. That being the case, it might seem strange if he didn’t keep his own name.

**Alec** : It’s Lestrade. Gabrielle’s surname is Lestrade.

**Maurice** : Lestrade. Yes, I think that will do quite nicely.


End file.
